14-63. Outmatched

Elijah went on the offensive.

Using every ounce of skill he’d earned through countless hours of training with Birk, as well as years of fighting for his life, he attacked. The whirl of blows came fast and hard, but Okar managed to fend them all off.

Not easily.

And he couldn’t disengage, either.

Elijah kept up the pressure, and the whirlwind of attacks continued for nearly five minutes. A normal person could never have maintained that level of focus, much less the necessary physicality. But neither Elijah nor Okar were normal.

The engagement didn’t end until Elijah nicked the swordsman’s cheek. The cut barely broke the skin, but it surprised Okar enough that he used one of his trump cards. His bracers lit up, with both ethera and white light. A second later, an explosion of air sent Elijah skipping backward across the arena.

He twisted, regaining his balance.

But when he looked back the way he’d come, Okar was gone.

“Shit,” he muttered, focusing on Soul of the Wild. His awareness stretched for more than a hundred feet in every direction, but he couldn’t feel any indication that Okar was still there.

Not until he sensed a ripple in the air above him.

He looked up just in time to see the flash of a blade before it descended upon him. He twitched to the side – barely an inch – but that probably saved his life. The sword still slashed through his ear, cutting it away in a shower of blood before embedding itself in Elijah’s shoulder.

He grunted as the second blade came in from the back, slicing through his liver.

Then, they swirled.

That was when he saw Okar reappear right where Elijah had left him. Though he was unarmed, with one hand outstretched.

In an isolated cluster within Elijah’s mind, he recognized what had happened. It was a combination of abilities – or maybe item traits – all used in conjunction. One to distract Elijah and get some distance. One to go into stealth. And the other to control his swords.

Knowing how it all worked together was a small comfort that lost itself in the midst of being torn to shreds.

If Elijah didn’t still have Wild Resurgence going, it probably would have killed him.

Even then, he nearly lost consciousness.

But he still managed to cast Nature’s Bloom and, finally, Blessing of the Grove. Even as fat drops of rain fell from the sky, Elijah endured the agony inflicted upon him. It didn’t stop for more than a minute, and in that time, Elijah was forced to reapply six instances of Nature’s Bloom.

But finally, the swords retreated, landing in Okar’s outstretched hands.

Elijah coughed up blood, then wiped his arm across his mouth. As he did so, the damage done to his armor mended. He also used Clean, ridding it of blood. Finally, he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, ready for another attack.

It didn’t come.

Instead, Okar merely studied him, and with a curious expression on his soft face.

“That usually does the trick,” he said.

Elijah shrugged. “’Tis but a flesh wound.”

Okar cocked his head to the side. “Odd.”

“Yeah, that tracks.”

The half-dwarf once again stalked forward, his every footstep measured. Elijah met him halfway, and their battle resumed. The pace was less furious, though. More intentional. Elijah knew he was being set up. He could read that, at least. But Okar’s attacks were so well-placed that it was all Elijah could do to simply keep up.

Over the next ten minutes, they clashed dozens of times. During that span, Elijah took so many wounds that he didn’t even bother to keep count. A slash across his stomach here, a dislocated knee there. He nearly lost an eye at one point, and Okar managed to surprise him with an uppercut that knocked a few teeth from his mouth.

But Elijah recovered from every landed attack.

“You’re built like a true defender,” Okar breathed after disengaging. His face was flush, and sweat poured down his forehead. But he’d not lost even the slightest bit of speed.

“Oh, this is nothing. You should see my cultivation methods,” Elijah quipped.

“I…I would not like to see that.”

“Your loss. You haven’t lived until your whole body’s been ripped to pieces by the abyss.”

Okar tilted his head again. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or telling the truth.”

“Bit of both.”

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“Ah.”

Then, they clashed again.

And again after that.

It went on for nearly two hours until Elijah realized something he should’ve known from the very beginning. He couldn’t win.

Not by holding everything back, at least.

Okar was too skilled, and his attributes exceeded Elijah’s by no small amount. He was faster, with better technique, and the only reason Elijah had survived was because he could heal.

Without that incalculable advantage, Elijah would have been slaughtered after that first exchange.

Disappointed, he disengaged and threw himself backward. Okar was content to allow it. They didn’t obey a discernible rhythm, but the swordsman was more than happy to take the long approach.

Meanwhile, Elijah was already preparing to end it.

“For what it’s worth, you pushed me harder than I expected,” Elijah admitted. “You’re a good fighter.”

Raising his blade, Okar gave him a salute. “As are you, Druid. It’s a shame that you’ve found your limits,” he said, completely misinterpreting Elijah’s tone of disappointment.

Elijah just let out a wry chuckle. “This? This was me fighting with both hands tied behind my back,” he said. He hadn’t even used any of his offensive spells like Nature’s Claim or Eternal Plague. Instead, he’d hoped to win the battle through spearwork alone – a lofty goal to which he’d fallen very short.

“I see.”

“Do you? You’re not going to tell me you’re not left-handed, are you?”

The half-dwarf narrowed his eyes as he slowly circled Elijah. “I am ambidextrous. Otherwise, I would be incapable of wielding two weapons at once.”

“Oh. Right. You guys don’t have movies here,” Elijah said. Then, he lamented, “Nobody understands my references.”

“A great tragedy, I am sure,” Okar said, slashing his sword in Elijah’s direction.

Elijah didn’t even feel the invisible blade before it slashed into his chest. It bit deep, slicing through his sternum like it was nothing. Fortunately, Elijah had already begun the transformation that he hoped would win the battle.

Scales sprouted all over his body as mushrooms grew across his back. In less than a second, he towered over the arena, his club-like tail twitching and a cloud of ochre spores misting across his wounded chest.

Okar took an involuntary step backward.

A reasonable reaction to suddenly finding himself facing a looming, eyeless monster of fungal flesh. The increased constitution that came with Shape of Spores combined with his enhanced regeneration to keep him from being cut in half. Wild Resurgence mended the rest of the damage.

“Sorry about this,” Elijah rumbled.

Okar regained his composure, though he did let out a string of whispered expletives.

Elijah used Bestial Charge before sprinting in the half-dwarf’s direction. Invisible blades tore into him, sending more spores and fungal flesh to cloud his wake. Yet, Elijah didn’t stop.

He hit Okar with a shoulder charge that sent the swordsman rocketing backward. Even then, he managed to twist away from Elijah’s grasping claws, and he ended up skipping across the arena until he slammed into the outer wall. Elijah rushed him.

But the half-dwarf was quick to recover. He dipped beneath Elijah’s comparatively clumsy attack, and his swords dug into thick legs. They erupted into lightning and that eviscerating assault that had very nearly ended the fight much earlier.

The Shape of Spores was built to take that damage, though.

Not only was it equipped with Shell, which was a weak shield, but it also had the benefit of much-increased durability. Still, Okar was a menace, and by the time he disengaged, he’d torn through Elijah’s flesh down to the bone.

He retreated, sprinting away from the engagement.

Elijah rumbled after him.

He didn’t want to use Throne of Spores. But it was becoming increasingly obvious that that was the only way he was going to win the fight.

Without revealing his other cards, at least.

Okar played keep-away for the next few minutes, but Elijah could see the half-dwarf’s increasing fear.

“Is that permanent?!” he shouted.

That was when Elijah recognized the strategy. Most transformation abilities were short-duration. Clearly, Okar thought the Shape of Spores was like that.

But Elijah could maintain the form indefinitely.

It was one of his class’s core abilities, after all.

“More or less,” Elijah rumbled, still chasing. Though he was beginning to tire of the pursuit. Not physically. Instead, he just wanted an end to the fight that had been going on for far too long.

That was when Okar launched every attack he had available. He pulled out all the stops. Hundreds of invisible blades hit him while the half-dwarf himself pivoted and resumed the melee.

It was an overwhelming display of force. Elijah tried to defend. He felt every biting blade, every dislodged chunk of his flesh. Yellow spores clouded all around them, but if Okar was hindered by the debuff, Elijah didn’t notice a difference.

So, he used Thornbound Legion.

Tiny mites leaped free of his body and landed on Okar. He panicked, trying to rip them free. But more than a few managed to bore into him. A second later, Elijah finally got his claws on the half-dwarf.

And he slipped away.

Elijah had no idea how he managed it. One second, Okar was in his hands, and the next, the swordsman was on his back, repeatedly stabbing into the base of his neck.

Letting out a roar, Elijah spun in place, trying to dislodge the small swordsman. But it was to no avail. He fell to his knees as one of Okar’s attacks partially severed his spine.

Growling, Elijah activated Mycelial Regrowth.

And then, he used Throne of Spores.

All damage Okar had inflicted upon him mended in an instant. His flesh bound itself back together, and his spine rebuilt itself. More importantly, fungal tendrils burst free of his back and wrapped themselves around the small swordsman. He slipped free, flipped through the air, and landed a dozen feet away.

Only to have more tendrils erupt from the ground and wrap themselves around him.

His blades lashed out, severing each fungal vine that tried to capture him.

It was an impressive display, but Elijah didn’t let up. Now that he was committed, he wanted to end the fight.

So, he used Nature’s Claim.

It settled into Okar, building for a long second before the spell was ruthlessly crushed.

“Not letting you do that to me!” he shouted, still fighting off the tendrils. It was confirmation that he’d prepared for Elijah’s previous tactics.

Just as any good fighter would.

Elijah chuckled. Then, he cast it again.

Okar’s eyes went wide as the fungi took hold within him. He crushed it again, but the worried look on his face told Elijah all he needed to know. He was banking on the ability having a cooldown. To counter it, he’d employed a limited-use item – probably tailor-made for the fight.

He was using his parents’ wealth as a weapon.

The brief bout of surprise was all the opening Elijah’s tendrils needed.

He re-cast Nature’s claim, and this time, the life cycle proceeded uninterrupted. Mushrooms burst free of Okar’s back. Still, even grievously wounded, he fought on. The tendrils wrapped around his legs, but he continued to hack them to pieces.

Elijah stepped forward.

“Sorry,” he said before clamping his claws on Okar’s head. The half-dwarf chopped at his arms, but the combination of Nature’s Claim, the fungal spores in his bloodstream, and Thornbound Legion had robbed him of much of his strength.

So he had no defense when Elijah squeezed, popping his skull like a grape.

As he let Okar’s headless corpse fall away, he let out a sigh. Only then did he realize that the arena was silent. Not a single member of the millions-strong crowd uttered a word.

Then, suddenly, they roared.

And the Curator declared Elijah’s victory.